


Aisle 17B

by ikkiM



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:38:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/pseuds/ikkiM
Summary: Grocery shopping with Jaime Lannister was a nightmare.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WackyGoofball](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WackyGoofball/gifts), [justme (silver_spring)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_spring/gifts).



> This fic is for Wacky and justme because they always, always, _always_ brighten my day with their words, their thoughts, their graphics and manips and most of all, their ability to [Spoof Westeros](http://w11.zetaboards.com/Jaime_x_Brienne/topic/11601827/1/) at a moment's notice.
> 
> Thank you ladies for making me smile.

Grocery shopping with Jaime Lannister was a nightmare. Yes, he had been her roommate since senior year in college, moving just two months ago from their tiny off-campus apartment to a nice condo in a pretty area of town. Yes, they still shared expenses and food. Yes, he was her best friend and probably always would be. Yes, she’d seen him at his best and at his worst. That didn’t mean she enjoyed every moment of his company. And Jaime Lannister at the grocery store was most certainly Jaime Lannister at his very worst.

During their early trips, he’d been like an overexcited toddler. Having never shopped on his own as a child, the supermarket was a wonderland and he was forever filling the cart with sugary cereals and Little HotPie snack cakes.

That phase had passed quickly after his father had cut off access to his trust fund. Faced with a budget for the first time in his life, Jaime’d turned to extreme couponing, making it some sort of mission to use as many coupons as possible, maximizing their value, even on products they neither wanted nor needed. Brienne still cringed at the memory of his shouting match with a store manager over a palette of powdered juice mix and a stack of half price offers.

Now that they were both employed, and money wasn’t so tight, Jaime relinquished couponing to her, which was a definite improvement. Their grocery trips were slightly better. Still, the very thought of Jaime’s bag packing skills made her stomach clench; the carton of eggs did not go under the bag of apples; paper products did not go in the same bag as frozen foods. She’d tried to slip away this morning, but he’d caught her before she left. He’d insisted on coming with her, saying their grocery trips were “special” now.

Ever since the Pyceltussin Cough Syrup Incident last week, when, having run out of it at home, forcing a trip to the grocery, her temperature had risen so high as to see her nearly keel over into a pile of artichokes in the vegetable section. She'd been in such a state that she’d dreamed she’d told Jaime she was in love with him as he bride-carried her to the car, though she was sure that could never have happened.

She had clearly been in a terrible state, so much so that Jaime had become completely over-protective. He’d started putting his hand on her back whenever they walked somewhere, presumably to keep her from falling over again. He’d cook her dinner to make sure she ate properly. He’d help with the dishes. He’d carry her laundry not just downstairs to the washers, but back upstairs as well. He’d pulled out her chair when they’d gone to dinner last night at a restaurant, jumping in front of her to open the doors.

And not ten minutes ago, he’d come up behind her as she’d looked at the frozen vegetables, slipping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. She’d lurched forward to grab a bag of broccoli and shake him off. She enjoyed Roommate Footrub Night just as much as he did, but she’d always been uncomfortable with any sort of friendly physical affection from him in public. She couldn’t bear the disbelieving looks of strangers, that the hot guy could be friends with the ugly girl.

She’d desperately wanted to make her grocery store run alone this morning, not just because of Jaime’s newfound touchiness, but because she needed to buy tampons. And she just could _not_ let Jaime see her buying tampons. It wasn’t that Jaime wasn’t completely comfortable with female biology, but rather because he was fascinated with the bits of cotton, string and cardboard.

Brienne had trembled in mortification the day he’d walked out of their bathroom with a freshly opened tampon in his hand, asking exactly how it worked. She’d given him the most cursory of explanations, but that only made his fascination grow.

As comfortable as he was with the idea of a woman’s body, he had little to no understanding of the practicalities involved in actually having one. He was fascinated by everything from the structural engineering of bras to the concept of a navel being lower than a waistline. And he wasn’t just fascinated with the concept of a woman’s body. He was fascinated with her body, s _pecifically_.

Ever since the day they’d met, he’d had a morbid obsession with her particular biology. He was constantly asking her questions about how her body functioned, from the flex of muscles in her legs to what elevated her heart rate. She’d tried to be frank and clinical, but lately Jaime seemed to turn all of those conversations into something more personal and intimate. Just the other day he’d given her a lecture on the pitfalls of body-shaming and how she should stand tall and be proud of her height and “shape.” She’d wanted to die. As if Jaime Lannister could understand what it felt like to be ashamed of one’s own body. Even with only one hand he still looked like half a god.

But all that was separate from his fascination with tampons. He seemed to think it was an appropriate dexterity exercise for his left hand to use them as miniature missiles, pelting her at random times of the day. After her complaints about waste, he’d started to reuse the ones that hadn’t landed in her cups of tea, managing to pull the cotton strings back through the cardboard and “reload” so as to conserve “ammunition.” To her mortification and shame, he had even told Ron Connington that one of her tampons would be effective in stopping the bloody nose Jaime had given him for suggesting Brienne wasn’t a “real” woman.

Despite Jaime’s misuse of her feminine products, she didn’t need tampons _right away._ She had half a box at home, but she had a coupon due to expire that very day, and it was triple coupon day at the grocery. Unfortunately, Jaime’d been almost glued to her side since they’d arrived. She had to find a way to slip a box into the cart without him noticing, then she’d hide them in her nightstand drawer, away from his prying eyes and now nimble fingers.

She crouched down to pick up a bottle of toilet cleaner that was on sale and felt Jaime’s fingers trickling across the bare skin of her ribs. She jumped up and just missed knocking her head into his jaw. “What are you doing?” She hissed.

He grinned at her in his perfect Jaime way. “If you insist on flashing your tickle spots at me, wench, you know I’m going take that bait.”

Brienne dumped the cleaner into the cart, annoyed to see it land on the bag of dinner rolls, before reaching around to tuck her shirt back into her pants. “I wasn’t flashing anything at you. My shirt accidentally came untucked.”

He nodded at her. “Right. An _accident_.”

She felt the heat suffusing her face as she grabbed the cart and turned to make a getaway down the aisle, only to discover that the front wheel had become stuck on a discarded packet of dryer sheets. She groaned and escaped into her coupon sorter, flipping through the categories so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

Jaime whispered in her ear, “If you’d just let me start buying the groceries, you wouldn’t need to worry about that.” She felt his hand on her back and hot breath on her neck. She jerked around, grabbing a random coupon and waving it at him.

“I can buy my own groceries, Jaime. Just because I’m an only an intern and you have access to your trust fund doesn’t mean I need you to buy things for me,” she huffed and handed him the paper clipping. “Could you go find me these?”

Jaime took the slip and glanced at it, raising one eyebrow. “Kale chips? I know you’re fond of eating cardboard and yogurt, but I thought even you rebelled at these.”

Brienne worked hard to lie convincingly, feeling the blood rush to her face. He was right. She hated kale chips. They somehow managed to taste like dirt and stale green beans. The coupon must have been left over from the extreme Jaime days, but she would eat an entire bag of revolting pressed raw kale if she could just get enough time away from him to buy what she wanted. She forced the words from her lips, “They weren’t that bad. I think we should try them again. They are really good for you, and you know how important good nutrition is.”

Jaime got that odd soft look on his face before smiling at her. He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. “If my lady wants kale chips, her knight shall seek them out.”

Brienne went hot all over at the feel of his lips on her skin, but before she could chastise him, he’d turned on one heel and headed towards the organic aisle. Brienne spun the cart and raced towards aisle 17B. She pulled out her coupon and searched for the matching product. Of course it would be at the very bottom of the shelf. Brienne bent down and dug through the boxes until she found the right product. She stood up and arched her back. Why was it that everything she wanted was on the bottom shelf? Stores always seemed to be designed for shorter people. She checked again to make sure the tampons matched the coupon. It wouldn’t do to have an embarrassing moment at the checkout by being told her coupon didn’t apply. She’d just verified the expiration date when she heard a voice calling from far too close.

“Wench!” Jaime bellowed.

In a panic, Brienne threw the box of tampons in the cart, tried to cover them with Jaime’s box of overly sweet Walda-Os cereal, and then turned to the other side of the aisle, grabbing the first product within reach. Better that than having to stand in the aisle explaining all of the different types and brands of feminine hygiene products to Jaime.

Just as he reached her, Brienne looked down at the box in her hand.

No. No. _No_. Her brain was screaming. Of all items she could have been holding at that very moment, there was only one thing worse than tampons. She stared at her own hand in horror. _Condoms_. A twelve pack variety box. And Jaime was right there. She looked up at him. He was looking at the condoms. She looked back down at the box in her hand, but could feel his eyes on her. She braced herself as she heard Jaime inhale.

“Are you buying those because of that bearded ginger plumber who’s always leering at you?” he growled.

In surprise, she looked at him. Tormund was the superintendent at their new place. He’d been nice enough to her, and maybe he’d hinted at wanting to ask her out, but she wasn’t _interested_ in him. He had all that weird facial hair and terrible table manners. He’d arrived with a pork chop in hand to inspect the installation of their refrigerator. The very thought of dating him made her skin crawl.

“Are you?” Jaime demanded, stepping closer.

“No,” Brienne bit out, her face flaming. “These have nothing to do with Tormund. Why would you even think that?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you, undressing you with his eyes. Has he worn you down with his seductive beard scratching and ability to belch your name? Did you finally decide to take him up on his offer?” Jaime snarled.

“His beard scratching is not seductive and he’s not undressing me with his eyes or anything else. I am never going out with _Tormund_ ,” she sniped back.

He locked eyes with her. “Who then, wench?”

Oh gods, now she had to come up with an answer. _I just grabbed them to hide my tampons from you_. She suddenly regretted her denial of interest in their super.

“Who?” he growled at her, stepping even closer.

She panicked and said the first neutral thing that came to mind. “I grabbed them so we could have them around the apartment. In case we ever need them.”

Jaime’s eyes dropped to the box of condoms.

It was then that Brienne realized the implication of what she’d said. _Oh gods. He thinks I mean him. He thinks I mean me and him. He thinks I mean us. Oh gods, oh gods_...

She had felt humiliation before, but nothing quite like this. Her skin was burning. She was probably getting hives, like the time she’d broken out in the itchy red welts during the ceremony to name her division college athlete of the year or when she’d forgotten her towel and had to walk all the way from the pool to the locker room in just her bathing suit. This was worse. Much, _much_ worse. She prayed to the seven to melt into the floor. The moment seemed to stretch on for a year, the silence only broken by the sounds of _The Girl from Volon Therys_ piped over the sound system and Jaime’s labored breathing.

It was going to happen any moment now. He was going to mock her. She could feel it coming, like a monsoon or Winter, inevitable and terrifying. He was probably just preparing something wickedly snide. Or worse, he would pity her. She tried to formulate a sentence that could salvage the situation, that could explain that she didn’t mean they would use the condoms together, but in case either of them might have the need, separately. But of course, he knew she wouldn’t have the need and he hadn’t been with anyone since一

“Brienne,” his voice was soft as he moved towards her. He placed his hand on her hip.

_Oh gods, what was even happening???_

A rush of words fell from his mouth. “I thought, after last week, that you wanted to take it slow. I mean, we’re friends, but I don’t know how to be a boyfriend. I don’t know how to date a woman. And I didn’t want to pressure you. I _don’t_ want to pressure you, but wench, Brienne,” he stopped and inhaled, “I’m ready to take the next step. That is, if you are.”

 _What was he even saying? Ready for_ what _?_ Brienne just stared at him. The hand on her hip tightened. She tried to formulate words. Any words would do. Her mouth opened and closed. She clutched the box of condoms to her chest. Jaime moved closer. She tried to read his expression. He licked his lips and a smile ghosted over his face.

“In fact,” he went on, “I’m ready right now.”

And before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. Her eyes slammed shut. Jaime was kissing her. His lips were warm and soft and firm all at once. They were moving over hers, and it was wonderful. She couldn’t stop her own lips from moving, pressing into his, learning the shape and feel of him.

His body was pressing into hers. One hand gripped her hip while his stump pressed into the small of her back. His legs were pressed to hers. There was a definite and distinct hardness pressing into the top of her thigh. She shifted her leg so he was pressed somewhere else. Just _pressing_ everywhere…

His hand found its way under her shirt while hers moved to the back of his neck. She found herself almost bending backwards as Jaime seemed to cover her body with his.

Then suddenly, he drew back from her with a groan. “Wench, we have to stop or we’re going to have to go home and use those right now.” He tilted his head towards the condoms and stared at her.

She could see the question in his eyes. She didn’t know what was happening. Jaime kissing her. Jaime wanting her. It couldn’t be real. Maybe she had never woken from her cold medicine-induced haze. Maybe she was dead. Maybe _this_ was all a dream. It had to be a dream. She certainly wouldn’t be making out with her best friend and roommate, Jaime Lannister, in the family planning aisle of the grocery store. She stared back at him.

Without a word, she threw the box of condoms in the cart and headed for the check out as fast as she could go. If this were a dream, she didn’t want to wake.

She could hear Jaime right behind her, muttering, “Thank the gods.” He caught up to her and she felt him slip a finger through her belt loop, as if to anchor himself to her. She reached the front of the store to see every regular checkout lane backed up by shoppers with full carts of their own. Brienne groaned to herself. It would figure that in the best sex dream she had ever had, it would all fall apart. She sighed and pushed their cart into the shortest lane.

“Brienne,” Jaime said from just behind her.

She closed her eyes. This is when it would happen. In reality, Jaime was probably standing beside her bed, trying to wake her up to take another dose of some vile medicine.

“Brienne,” he repeated, but this time she felt the finger that had been hooked into her belt loop trace the bare skin under the waistband of her jeans. She shivered. He repeated her name a third time.

She opened her eyes, expecting to see her bedroom ceiling. Instead, she was faced with a crowded grocery, muzak piping over the loudspeaker, and Jaime whispering in her ear. “Wench, do we really need any of these groceries?”

Brienne turned to him, feeling slightly dazed. He was placing light kisses where her neck met her back. His lips were so warm. He spoke again, “We could just take what we need and hit the Express Lane.” He reached in the cart and grabbed the box of condoms and handed them to her, then pulled out his wallet.

She felt momentarily guilty for thinking of leaving a cart full of groceries for some beleaguered employee to empty. Then, Jaime spun her around impatiently and his lips were on her again. In a quick moment of decision, she pushed the cart to an end cap, ready to leave. With a grin, Jaime grabbed her hand to pull her towards the Express Lane. She halted their progress for just a moment as she retrieved the box of tampons.

After all, her coupon _was_ about to expire.


End file.
